clip the wings that get you high
by mellomarie
Summary: SasuSaku. One-shot. There was something very sacred about their meetings, for Sasuke it was an apology not voiced, and for Sakura it was fractures of her heart slowly mending.


**clip the wings that get you high**

He was wounded, blood and dirt marring his skin, eyes half-lidded and his mouth clamped shut—_afraid, afraid, afraid_—as Sasuke watched as his former team circled around him, their eyes glassy with unshed tears, hands working deftly to heal him. He automatically tried to work his mouth to say a word, but nothing would come out.

And as they said his name over and over, like a misguided chant; Sasuke knew then that he didn't want to be forgotten. He didn't want to die, he wanted to be saved. To die alone, eventually forgotten, only remembered by his mistakes—Sasuke didn't want to die.

Feebly, his hands clenched and his eyes caught glimpses of Sakura hovering over him, so close, her hair wet against her cheeks. Her eyes were glistening with fresh tears, lips murmuring a small prayer.

Naruto was smiling, tears cascading down his cheek shamelessly, hopeful words and phrases—like the yesterday of team seven—tumbling out of his mouth. Naruto said that he wouldn't die; he said that he would live a _long, long life_, and didn't you know that Sakura was the best of the best? He said that things would work out perfectly, they always did. Faith was the only thing that mattered, faith. Have faith.

"You need to have faith in us Sasuke."

And so Sasuke had faith. He had faith in Naruto's never-ending smile, and Sakura's capable hands. He had faith in himself, to heal—a prospect he couldn't bring himself to entertain in his long and bitter seventeen years of life. He had faith in his small, closed heart.

He had faith that someday his heart wouldn't be so small.

* * *

Sakura is not weak.

Sasuke realised this now, as he watched the girl-who-loves-him (lov_ed _him—a distinction he tries to ignore) smiling prettily, her eyes alighting—heart proudly on her sleeve…

…despite him shattering any dreams or illusions that she had of them, that she had of _him_. He used to think of those dreams as foolish, naïve and completely and utterly childish.

He now knew that was wrong.

He now knew there was nothing foolish about love.

He now knew there was nothing foolish about letting it known.

_Sakura is not weak,_ he thought as Sakura turned around, to regard his presence carefully.

Sakura is not weak.

* * *

Pleasant smiles and absent-minded nods was their only consistent type of conversation—meeting down the road, after training, after work, tired eyes and an artificial smile. It was the type of conversation Sasuke always wanted to have, in his younger years, for Sakura's chatty demeanour always went unappreciated.

He didn't know what to make of their talks now.

All he knew was that it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Every word he said was like a challenge; a part of him wanted to break her, a part of him deeply disliked this empowered Sakura standing before him, her gaze unwavering, and her lips tight and fixed. He wanted to find a crack; he wanted to completely unravel her elaborate façade.

She'd glared at him sometimes, especially when he asked her whether or not she was avoiding him. I'm busy, she'd say, but Sasuke knew better than that. He'd nod, acting as though he was satisfied with her answer, and he watched the red flush of anger slowly die from her cheeks.

She'd always leave though. It was always her back to him; it was a sight Sasuke disliked. He couldn't help but think that their roles were reversed.

There was something very sacred about their meetings, for Sasuke it was an apology not voiced, and for Sakura it was fractures of her heart slowly mending.

* * *

"You didn't have to walk me home, Sasuke-kun."

Sasuke shrugged, his hands in his pockets, as he watched Sakura's serene (_fake, fake, fake_) smile from the corner of his eye. She commented idly about the weather, asked questions about his work, and divulged the latest gossip. It was the ingredients of their conversations in the past three years—ingredients Sasuke despised.

And so, he began the challenging.

"You're twenty."

Sakura nodded, "Yes. We're all getting old."

"You once said you'd be married by twenty," Sasuke added, taking in her apprehensive stare, "during our team seven days."

Sakura snorted, "I was thirteen and sorely misguided. I've learned that I'm not the marrying type."

"Same."

Sakura raised an eyebrow, her tone disbelieving "Really now? I also remember you stating something about clan restoration."

"Also thirteen and sorely misguided."

Sakura rolled her eyes, and a smile that reminded him of younger, happier, simpler times slowly flittered across her lips, her eyes alighting. There was tension in his shoulders and back, and something heavy sat in his chest. It was a feeling Sasuke was now acquainted with. It was a feeling Sasuke disliked acknowledging.

"I think you're wrong, Sasuke-kun. I can see you being a good father—you'd be the type that acts all hardened and tough but a big softie in front of his child. I can see you smiling secret smiles, and your wife would always catch them."

A cold silence draped between, their walk suddenly halted. Sakura couldn't help but wonder if she had said too much, perhaps with their consistent small talk, her comment about him being a good family man was completely unwarranted. She bit her lip, watching his fist clench and unclench, and finally she whispered an apology, walking past him and not turning back.

Sasuke wasn't offended though.

He didn't even think she was being nosy.

He was angry—angry at himself.

For the girl he envisioned—catching those secret smiles—was Sakura.

* * *

Sakura stared unblinkingly ahead at her reflection, emitted from the long mirror in front of her. Her hands softly patted down the white material of her kimono, looking for anything out of place, but there was nothing. The nervousness fluttering in her chest barely ceased, as she cautiously analysed her outfit once more.

"You love me, don't you?"

Sakura waited for Sasuke's answer patiently, her eyes still on the mirror, the light hitting an angle and illuminating his dark eyes. She frowned slightly, finally turning around and facing him. She asked him once more, and Sasuke harshly interrupted her.

"Why do you want to know?"

A part of her wanted the peace of mind. The past few years had been a whirlwind—a guessing game; she wanted to satiate her curiosity; she wanted to entertain—if only for a moment—the possibility of them, before she finally faced her reality.

"I just want to know," Sakura murmured impassively, shrugging.

"I've always said that I was too proud for love," Sasuke replied.

"No. No you never said it; at least to me."

Sasuke sighed, his gaze downcast, "I never said a lot of things. But I am too proud. I loved you for five years and I didn't say anything."

Sakura smiled softly, her legs moving towards him. She stretched out her hand, brushing back rebellious dark locks from his face. She didn't know what she was doing…but his admission evoked something terrible inside of her—a painful ache. It was akin to mourning.

"And I was too ashamed. I was ashamed of my love because it was selfish and smothering, so I didn't say anything either," Sakura murmured, her eyes drawn to his face, etching a picture in her mind's eye; a picture she hoped that would last a relatively long time.

"Do you love me now?" He asked calmly, in his usual monotone.

Sakura breathed heavily, "What difference would that make? I'm still getting married."

"To Bushy-Brows," Sasuke muttered in a low voice.

"_To Lee-san,"_ Sakura corrected, although it looked like she was fighting a giggle, "I think we could learn a few things from him."

"Maybe."

"I let you go though. I let you go because I wanted my love to be unconditional, and it took awhile….it took awhile for it to happen. It was hard not to say I love you, and it was hard to not touch you, and it was hard to look at you and envision a life without me," Sakura added in a rush, slightly out of breath.

"Did it ever get easier?"

Sakura frowned, "No. I don't think it ever does."

"Then I'll do the same. I'll let you go," Sasuke murmured, slightly backing away from her hands that were on his cheeks.

"Are you happy for me?"

Sasuke sighed, "I'd be happier if you were with me…but yes. Yes, I can be happy for you."

"You don't have to."

"I want to," Sasuke insisted.

Sakura nodded, her eyes glassy with unshed tears, "I can be happy for you too; when you find the suitable one."

"I won't find her," Sasuke said, his voice cold and decisive.

"Yes you will," Sakura snapped, a tremor in her voice, "You'll find her, and I'll be smiling when you do."

"And you'll smile for me, today," Sakura added, her forehead lightly meeting his.

And Sasuke nodded, despite the painful ache in his chest, despite the dangling possibility of his own happiness being snatched away, and despite the hard lump in his throat.

Because Sasuke knew that all of those things meant so much more; it meant he had a heart.

And it was no longer small or closed.

* * *

**A/N:**

Uh. I wrote this a long, long time ago so I found it and cleaned up a bit. Tell me what you guys thought of it. It's my usual angst-galore, lol.

Sorta on hiatus till I get my new lap-top (cause old one broke ;;) and I'm finished school (two weeks, bb). Please review and let me know what you guys thought of this.

THANKS.


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